


Growing Pains

by FunnyWings



Series: Wayward AF [4]
Category: Supernatural, Wayward Sisters (TV)
Genre: A trip through memory lane, F/F, Fairies, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, LITERALLY, Monster of the Week, Wayward Daughters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 00:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15327414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunnyWings/pseuds/FunnyWings
Summary: After graduating, Patience decides to try meditation in order to find some peace about her future. Meanwhile, Wendy and Donna try hunting together, and Sam visits Jody in the wake of the events of the Supernatural finale.Excerpt:“You’re not going to graduate without me there, are you child?” Patience could almost hear the words out loud, instead of an echo at the back of her head. She hugged the broach close to her, closing her eyes and trying to remember Missouri Mosely’s face. Not the bloodied vision she’d had of her death, but the soft smile she’d had when she used to sing Patience to sleep. The way she’d told Patience not to cry when her mother died, because she would always be there for her.Patience went back to stand in front of the mirror, and fixed the broach just so on her yellow sundress. That was better.





	Growing Pains

**Author's Note:**

> This is more crossover between Wayward and SPN than most episodes are going to have. It felt right for this particular installment.
> 
> Also, I'm still Saileen trash who could have guessed.
> 
> That being said, the focus is still on the Wayward characters, here. I hope you enjoy!

Patience stared down her reflection in the mirror. She’d had Alex do her hair up nicely, after watching some tutorial or other on the internet, and it didn’t look bad. It wasn’t the day she and Ronson would have spent “ironically” getting their hair done before graduation while excitedly chattering about their prom plans, but it wasn’t bad either.

Neither was the yellow dress Wendy had let her borrow. Patience hadn’t brought all her clothes with her when she’d left. She honestly hadn’t thought it would be such a permanent arrangement. She’d always liked yellow though, and Wendy was just about her size. It was a little short for a sun dress, and Patience was already dreading that one guy in calculus who couldn’t take a hint making a comment about that, but she didn’t take it off. Fuck him, anyway.

Still, it felt like something was missing. Well, it felt like a lot of things were missing. All her friends were missing. Her dad was missing. Her favorite teachers were missing. But Patience couldn’t fix any of those things. All she could do was stare in the mirror and think of the loss.

Ronson had offered to drive down to see Patience graduate, but that was before Patience had remembered that her graduation night was the same night as Ronson’s prom. She’d made Ronson promise not skip out just to see a lame ceremony, and set up a date for Ronson to visit over the summer. Patience had even made Claire promise there would be no hunting except in case of emergency while Ronson was visiting. Unfortunately, looking forward to Ronson’s visit didn’t exactly help now.

She wanted a part of her old self to cross the finish line with her. She wanted something to prove that her entire life before a few months ago wasn’t for nothing.

So Patience turned and looked through all her things again. Dug through them, made a mess, and felt more and more desperate as she reached through. That’s when her hands landed upon a small box that she had only just remembered to pack when she’d left home. She opened it, slowly, taking out her grandmother’s broach and looking for answers in the way the lamplight glinted off of the inlaid gems.

“You’re not going to graduate without me there, are you child?” Patience could almost hear the words out loud, instead of an echo at the back of her head. She hugged the broach close to her, closing her eyes and trying to remember Missouri Mosely’s face. Not the bloodied vision she’d had of her death, but the soft smile she’d had when she used to sing Patience to sleep. The way she’d told Patience not to cry when her mother died, because she would always be there for her.

Patience went back to stand in front of the mirror, and fixed the broach just so on her yellow sundress. That was better.

“Hey,” Alex said, busting in through the doorway. She took in the mess Patience had made and raised an eyebrow. “Who are you and what have you done to Patience Turner, neat freak extraordinaire?”

“Oh yeah, I’m the neat freak,” said Patience. “Do we have to go?”

“Yeah,” Alex said. “Don’t tell her I told you, but Jody got you a whole bouquet of roses. She might actually cry a little seeing you graduate. She did when I graduated.”

Patience matched Alex’s wide grin with one of her own. It almost felt right on her face. Jody was easy to love, despite everything else.

“I’ll be down in a minute,” she promised. Alex nodded, always ready to give Patience the space she needed. Alex was easy to love, too. She respected Patience’s boundaries and was more than willing to help in any situation. Sure, Alex had been spending most of her free time with Eileen in the past few weeks, but she still made sure to check in with Patience.

It would almost be easier if she hated it here, Patience thought to herself. Then she might be able to convince herself to leave. Instead she felt doubly bound by love and duty in a job she’d never asked for.

“I’m with you if you need me,” her grandmother’s voice seemed to whisper to her. Patience nodded to her reflection. The broach was heavy, but it was a good weight. It had the weight of history behind it, and that was just what Patience had needed. A piece of identity that hadn’t been forced on her, but had been chosen.

“I miss you,” she said, touching the broach lightly with her fingers. Then without another word she turned from the mirror and went to face her future.

**********

Father Hellen only occasionally attended Sioux Falls High School graduation ceremonies. Usually he did this at the request of parents whose children admired him, or saw him as a role model. This was the first time he had attended with anyone else, and although he worried for the time he was missing to further connect with and communicate with Kaia, it was nice to see Jody’s proud smile as Patience Turner’s name was called.

Claire wolf-whistled at Patience, who rolled her eyes so hard it was visible from their spot at the back of the bleachers. Alex elbowed Claire hard in the arm, and the two began jabbing at each other every other second while Jody told them to knock it the fuck off. Wendy claimed she was tired as the list of graduating students went on and on, and ended up lying down curled up with her head in Claire’s lap.

Father Hellen wondered a moment if this would be what having a family would be like. He tried to shake the useless thought from his head. He turned instead to try his hand at communicating with Eileen, who had been amused with his attempts to learn sign language and then grown more grateful as he put in greater effort. His conversational skills were limited at best, but Eileen seemed glad that she could actually hold conversations with anyone besides just Alex. Alex had also been attempting to learn more, and had gotten much farther than Father Hellen in the few weeks they’d both known Eileen.

“Daniel?” Jody said, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. He couldn’t help a small smile at that. It had been a recent development, being on a strictly first name basis with Jody. He had begun to consider her his closest friend, aside from Maggie, the hunter nun who had first told him what was happening to him. It was pleasant to know someone he did not have to keep himself a secret from. And Jody had taken to stopping by the cathedral with coffee once a week or so, and they would chat about their weeks, and their difficulties.

“Yes?” Father Hellen asked.

“Patience was asking me about something in the car, and she thought you might be able to help,” said Jody. “She wants to meditate on something, or just be on her own for a while. Someplace quiet. I know you have rooms in the church, and people who could check on her if she needed anything.”

The thought of Patience discovering Kaia flashed through his mind, and Father Hellen swallowed heavily. He knew that Jody knew who Kaia was, and would likely be glad to know she was alive. Or at least… part of her was. The confused fragments of her life that Kaia had shared with him were enough for him to have a very limited understanding that she was somehow two people in one. Kaia, and someone else too. Someone from a place very different to this one.

She was still learning, really. Kaia still sometimes made idle threats, as easily as breathing. Father Hellen had woken up more than once to see Kaia had left her room and was staring him down, her spear in hand. As afraid as he was of her sometimes, he never let on. He simply closed his eyes and waited. She had yet to actually hurt him. Yet being the operative word.

And being faced with people from a past that was raw and fresh would not be helpful, as far as Father Hellen was concerned. The last time Kaia had been close to them, she’d withdrawn into herself for days afterwards. Warred with herself, if the broken furniture she’d left strewn around her room was anything to go by. Father Hellen had tried to discuss this with Kaia, and been brushed off each and every time. She wasn’t ready to face her past yet, and Father Hellen couldn’t ignore his need to protect her from it.

“She… she can use one of the rooms at the cathedral,” he said at last. “But I won’t be there. I’ve been planning on taking a trip. Perhaps I can arrange… Margaret Lawson is the hunter I know. If I asked, she would come to help Patience through whatever is needed. She’s worked with psychics before.”

Jody lit up at the idea. Jody lit up was not very different than Jody as she normally was, but there was an animated spark in her eye that Father Hellen had come to recognize and like.

“Okay. I’ll run it by her and see if she’s still up for it,” said Jody. She looked over at where Wendy was softly snoring while Claire brushed the hair out of her face. “The sleepy one is going to spending the weekend with her aunt, too. I’ll practically have an empty house.”

“It’ll be like old times,” Alex cut in. “No buffers for the Claire and Alex show.”

“Oh god,” Jody muttered, but Alex took it in good fun.

“Maybe Jody will even let us drink now that the ‘young’ and impressionable teenagers are out of the house,” said Claire.

“Alex isn’t twenty one, yet,” Jody said reflexively. Claire just smiled.

“Yeah, but I am.”

She and Alex high fived each other. Jody rubbed her forehead and turned back to Father Hellen with an all-suffering look on her face.

“Good luck with those two,” he wished her. He was glad to see her laugh. Jody seemed like the kind of person who could use a few good laughs, and he was more than happy to help in that regard.

**********

Wendy had always admired her Aunt Donna. Every time she felt other or strange growing up, Aunt Donna had always been able to cheer her up with a quick smile and a promise that she wasn’t quite so odd as she seemed. When Donna had divorced Doug, and Wendy had seen every iota of positivity fail all at once, it had only made her respect Donna more. Because through even her worst moments, she was never cruel. She would snap at people sometimes, but it was a request to be left alone. It was as though lashing out and trying to make other people feel less than her had never even occurred to Donna as an option.

She was still Wendy’s favorite person in the whole world.

Unfortunately, she also knew Wendy far too well. Wendy arrived with her weekend bag, ready to help her Aunt Donna unpack and move in, and all the while Donna began poking and prodding about Wendy’s sudden interest in hunting.

“It’s dangerous you know,” Donna had said. “People get hurt. People get dead.”

“I know,” Wendy had said. “But I’ve always wanted to make a difference. This is a way to make a difference.”

“Honey, you won’t even touch a gun,” Donna had reminded her. This was still true. It drove Claire no small amount of crazy that Wendy insisted she wouldn’t use one. She knew a few too many people who had been shot or shot themselves to feel comfortable around the things. It was how a good friend of hers had accidentally killed himself when he was fourteen, messing around with a gun he thought wasn’t loaded. She remembered when she used to think that was the worst thing that would ever happen to her in her entire life.

That was prior to almost being monster fancy feast.

“There are other ways to fight,” Wendy had said. “Claire says I’m getting good at hand to hand.”

“Does she now?” Donna had asked knowingly. Wendy turned red and went back to unpacking dishes to fill her aunt’s new cabinets. The glass clinked cheerily, and despite the seriousness of the conversation Wendy felt more relaxed than she had in a long time. Aunt Donna always had that effect.

“I’m not… Claire is great. I might even like her a lot, but that’s not why I’m doing this,” Wendy said. “I can’t be helpless like that again. And I won’t let it happen to anyone else if I can stop it. You chose to be a hunter. Why can’t I?”

“It just doesn’t seem like you,” Donna replied, though carefully. Not implying she couldn’t, but implying a lack of interest. “You always liked building things up. Carving out a space for yourself and inviting others in to check out a new perspective. Hunting ain’t like that. It’s mostly crazy people doing mostly crazy, dangerous crap and hoping that they don’t make everything worse. People get hurt by the mistakes you make, and you make mistakes because there’s no time to think. It’s blood and sweat and tears, and sometimes you make the world a little safer.”

“I don’t know,” said Wendy. “Maybe that doesn’t sound like me. But it sounds like the kind of person I’d want to be.”

Aunt Donna smiled at her, but it was hesitant. Guilty. Wendy put down the stack of dishes in her hands and pulled Donna in for a long hug. It was warm and comforting, and Donna seemed to deflate a little into the hug. Her expression was more genuine when she let go.

“I found us a hunt,” Donna said next. “In case you’re interested in seeing what the life is like.”

“To scare me off, you mean.”

“No,” Donna said firmly. “To see if you it’s really what you want.”

Donna pressed a kiss to Wendy’s forehead, and it brought back memories of Christmases where she and Doug had come over, and Doug had gotten drunk and said whatever cruel thoughts came to mind, and Donna had ignored it all, tight lipped and silent. She’d come to life whenever Wendy or one of her cousins came up to talk to her. The weight Doug had put on her shoulders had seemed to disappear.

“It is,” Wendy said, stressing the point. “But… that’s a good idea. It sounds like more fun than unpacking.”

“Don’t even get me started,” Donna said. “I know twenty novelty mugs is too many, but I love them all. I couldn’t choose between them.”

“Maybe a monster will break some of them. Then you won’t have to pick.”

“Don’t even say that. My heart would break too,” Donna gasped in mock horror. She gently batted at Wendy with a spatula when Wendy couldn’t stop giggling. “Now let’s finish with the kitchen and then we can get started on the case.”

**********

Kaia stared blankly out the car window as Father Hellen drove west. She was restless, bored, and deeply annoyed that her nightly visits to Claire’s dreams would be interrupted. Proximity helped for finding another person’s head, and Father Hellen’s sudden desire to “take a vacation” was getting in the way of her continued efforts to get Claire to understand what and who she was.

Sometimes Kaia Nieves had more control, and sometimes the huntress did. The huntress tended to fill Claire’s mind with intricate battles and words of destiny and purpose. Of ending. Kaia Nieves tended to act as more observer than participant, and she would guide Claire towards more pleasant dreams. Happy early memories of her parents, the first girl Claire had kissed, the first time Jody had hugged her and she hadn’t flinched away. Sometimes Kaia was in these dreams too, especially when the balance of control was split mostly down the middle, the huntress’ curiosity and Kaia’s concern combining into a confusing dreamscape in which Claire was trying to reach through the battle for control and speak to Kaia.

Of course, Father Hellen didn’t know any of this. It was private, and it would certainly concern him if she mentioned how intimately connected to Claire she felt. He might even tell Jody, and Kaia didn’t want her involved yet. She was still biding her time, and figuring out what she intended to do in this new world. Which rules she would follow, and which ones she would disregard. Father Hellen could teach her whatever he liked, but she had a mind of her own and she intended to use it.

No one was going to tell her who she was and what she had to do ever again. If she was wrong and Claire wasn’t supposed to be her future, and perhaps even her death, then she would make it so. And if fate itself had something to say about it, fate had yet to contend with a pissed off dream walker who had taken down more than one of the Giants that inhabited her home world.

“Have you ever seen an ocean before?” Father Hellen asked, breaking through the awkward silence. Kaia turned her dead eyed stare on him.

“No.”

“Are there oceans on your home world?” he asked. She shrugged, looking away again.

“We don’t travel far from where we are born. It’s too dangerous,” she said. “You can’t drink ocean water. What would be the point in looking for something you can’t drink, even if we did think it existed?”

“Food?”

“We have food,” she said. “And we know the dangers of where we lived. If we moved we’d have to look for new dangers. It’s better to stay put.”

“It often is,” said Father Hellen. “It’s better to stay on the ground, too, but men still build themselves wings. Curiosity and imagination are the soul of humanity.”

“We survived, and that was enough,” Kaia said. Father Hellen looked back at her, his own curiosity shining through his eyes. He re-focused his attention back to the road a few moments later. Kaia didn’t bother adjusting her stare. It didn’t seem to make Father Hellen uncomfortable anyway.

“Surviving isn’t living,” said Father Hellen. “There is more to being human than simply being alive.”

“Where I’m from,” Kaia said next. “We weren’t so desperate to separate ourselves from the other monsters. We knew who we were, and we weren’t any different than they were. Everyone has to eat something, and if you don’t want to be eaten, you learn to kill. There isn’t time for anything else.”

Father Hellen’s frown deepened, lines etching into his face. Kaia looked down at her hands. She’d killed men, and cloaked lizards, and two of the fearsome Giants. It felt like too much blood suddenly. She’d never had a problem with it before. Never felt death like an itch under her skin. Shame, she named the emotion after careful consideration. She felt ashamed.

**********

Maggie the nun was younger than Patience had been expecting. She was early-forties, younger than Jody technically, and had been hunting since her teens. She’d learned about monsters in a round about way, and explained to Patience she had then quickly found a small community of hunters in the small Californian town where she had grown up.

“Did you ever want to be something else?” Patience asked her as Maggie showed her the small room she would be staying in. Maggie pursed her lips and thought about this, carefully. She had a habit of giving everything Patience said more weight than Patience had intended. Every answer was carefully considered, and it wasn’t unusual for Maggie’s silent consideration to last longer than was entirely comfortable.

“Yes,” she said at last. “I wanted something simpler than what I do now. To focus my energies on God and God alone. To live inside myself and never venture out. I wanted to transcend pain. But I learned those were things I couldn’t do, and I am happier now than I would have been.”

She smiled slowly at Patience, her expression as carefully presented as her words.

“Then again, happiness is not always the most important thing. Doing things that make us unhappy but are ultimately for the greater good can be a sign of emotional maturity. Of growth.”

“So screw my feelings then,” said Patience. Her hands touched at the broach, and squeezed tight. A pulsating warmth seemed to spread back through her veins. A comforting touch in a room that was dark, sparse, and unfriendly.

“Not in the slightest,” said Maggie. “You can’t ignore your gifts, you’ve already decided that. But perhaps there is a way to compromise and find a measure of peace within yourself. I can help you start the journey, but you have to be ready to walk the path. And you have to be ready to decide what you care about more. Your past or your future.”

“Okay then,” said Patience, looking around the room and then sitting cross-legged on the bed. “So how does this work? Do I just… sit here?”

“Focus on your breathing,” Maggie said. “The thoughts will come. You go someplace else when you have visions, right? You might start to feel the edge of that place while you sit. Start to explore it. Every psychic is different, and don’t feel the need to move out of your comfort zone. Just keep breathing.”

It sounded ridiculous and new-agey, and like the kind of thing Patience and Ronson would have made fun of over lunch. But Patience needed answers, and if this was what it took to get them, she was going to give it a try. So she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing.

Half an hour later, nothing had happened.

“This is stupid,” she said, opening her eyes. Maggie had left her to her own devices by this point. There was no one there to agree or disagree with her. On instinct, she reached for the broach again. Once more, warmth seemed to spread through her veins and she squeezed her eyes closed. “Help me.”

She fell back instantly, her eyes now wide open. Instead of the dark ceiling above her she saw a light blue room, painted with small spaceships and green aliens. It was small and cozy, and as Patience sat up, she noticed the crib in the corner. It was empty, but as she turned around she saw the baby it was meant to hold. He was cradled in a man’s arms. The man had dark brown eyes, and a familiar smile that had Patience touching her own lips in recognition.

“You’re so small, James,” the man said in wonder, letting his son’s fist curl around his fingers. He looked so soft sitting there with a baby in his arms. Missouri seemed to think so, too, because she stepped forward from where she’d been watching by the door frame and pressed a kiss to the man’s forehead. “Do you have to leave so soon, again, baby? It’s only been a few weeks since James was born. You need more rest.”

“I have to,” Missouri said, though she seemed hesitant. “I’ll be home soon.”

Patience didn’t know her grandfather’s name. He had kind eyes, she thought to herself. She watched as James Turner reached up to tug on her grandfather’s whiskers, and wondered whether her father remembered this man.

After taking her fill of this image, Patience followed downstairs after Missouri and was surprised to find silent tears tracking down her face. She wiped them away, angrily and picked up her landline, dialing a number.

“Can you stop by to check on James later?” she asked into the phone. “Oh, I’m sure Thomas will do just fine alone, but just in case?”

The world seemed to transform around Patience, and suddenly it was night and she was sitting next to her grandmother in a car. The baby was there with her, sleeping peacefully in the back.

‘In loving memory of Thomas Turner’ read a service program at Patience’s feet. Missouri wasn’t crying, and it wasn’t hard to piece together what had happened. Missouri Mosely had known just when her husband was going to die, and she’d left on a hunt that night. Patience felt bile rise at the back of her throat.

“How could you do something like that?” she said. Spat practically. Missouri turned to look at her. She was so young, almost as young as Patience. But her eyes were old.

“I didn’t want him to see it coming,” she said quietly. “I didn’t want him to know anything was wrong.”

They drove silently into the night for a few moments before Patience’s surroundings began to transform themselves again.

**********

Jody had expected relative quiet and ease during that weekend. Alex had decided that Eileen was almost ready to leave, barring a few medical tests she wanted to do. Jody thought that sounded like bullshit, but far be it from her to stop Alex from making friends with hunters and being sad at the prospect of Eileen leaving without saying goodbye.

Or at least that’s what she thought had happened. The truth came out over a farewell dinner in Eileen’s honor (which Eileen had objected to, and been overruled). And the truth came out for highly unexpected reasons. The doorbell rang in the middle of dinner and Jody got up to check who it was.

At the door stood Sam Winchester. He was paler than usual, and his eyes were bloodshot and angry, and Jody welcomed him in without a second thought because something was wrong. Sam hugged her long and tight and a nonsensical story spilled out faster than Jody could talk him down.

Somehow Dean was gone, and Sam didn’t know what to do. No one seemed to.

Claire and Alex had gotten up from their seats to see what was going on, and Eileen had frowned and followed them. Unable to hear Sam, she hadn’t known who had arrived until she’d exited the kitchen and looked right at him.

Then her eyes widened, and in absolute shock she spoke.

“Sam?”

Jody only had a second to wonder how Eileen had managed to grow her tongue back before she was shoved forcefully behind Sam, who held up a knife in Eileen’s direction.

“Who are you?” he asked, his hand shaking. “Who the fuck-“

“It’s me,” Eileen said and signed simultaneously. “Sam, it’s me.”

“Eileen Leahy has been dead for over year, so try again,” Sam sneered. His face twisted in anger, and Jody had to hold him back from rushing Eileen.

“Sam, she was possessed,” Jody told him quickly. “She was possessed for a long time, and I don’t know how you know her, but that is her. She’s human, we’ve checked.”

Jody had to repeat some variation of this several times before Sam stopped struggling against her hold and dropped his knife. Eileen was still signing at him, but she’d stopped using words Jody could understand. As soon as Jody let Sam go, he started signing back. He was clumsy at it, but seemed to know more than even Alex had managed to pick up. Jody got the impression Sam was asking her questions.

Whatever they were saying, Sam seemed to be satisfied, because he lunged at Eileen again, but instead of attacking her he pulled her into a tight hug and cradled her head against his chest. Eileen’s eyes closed and she hugged him back just as tightly.

“I was so scared,” Eileen admitted, raw and painful in a way she’d never let herself be in the weeks she had known Jody and the girls. Alex and Claire exchanged glances as Sam just hugged Eileen tighter to him, like a drowning man clinging on to a piece of unexpected driftwood.

“Well, this is dramatic,” Claire said after a second. It wasn’t sarcastic so much as it was observational, but Jody still sighed deeply at Claire’s lack of actual tact.

“That’s enough from you,” Jody said, quieting Claire with a glance. “And Alex, care to explain why Eileen can talk?”

Alex’s eyes widened in guilt and she looked to Eileen and then back to Jody. Instead of explaining however, she crossed her arms and jut out her chin in blatant defiance.

“No,” she said. Jody stared her down. “What, so Claire can break any rules she wants so she can help people, but when I do it, I’m the bad guy?”

Claire whispered something or other in Alex’s ear which calmed her down somewhat. Jody had no clue what it was, and she had too many problems to solve right now to figure it out.

“We’re going to go finish dinner,” Claire said, tugging Alex after her. “Then we’re going out. We’ll be back later, and we can talk in the morning. That work?”

Sam and Eileen were now signing quietly to each other, and both were looking more upset as the conversation went on. Jody knew what Claire was trying to do. Give Jody space to entangle that mess before dealing with anything else.

“Yeah that works,” Jody told them. “Be safe, okay?”

She directed this last part at Alex, who nodded back. A brief truce then. Fine. Jody could work with that.

**********

Wendy dressed smartly, with a button up, slacks, and a dark purple blazer. It was the kind of thing she imagined a reporter would wear, and that’s what she would be dressing as. She still felt all of nineteen years old though, and the make up she’d carefully applied didn’t add as many years as she had hoped.

Donna had been insistent on letting Wendy do her part of the investigating on her own. Sure, she’d also programmed her phone number into speed dial on Wendy’s phone, and Wendy had a feeling she was staking out the old folk’s home that Wendy was going to begin her investigation at, but otherwise she was very hands off. Despite her nerves, Wendy appreciated this. Donna was giving her a genuine test of her abilities, and Wendy had every intention of passing.

The Roswell Retirement and Care facility wasn’t as bad as it could have been, which was a relief. Wendy knew it was a crapshoot when it came to quality in care homes, and she was genuinely happy to see that the people who worked there seemed to care about their the people who lived there. If everyone wasn’t necessarily happy, they at least looked content, settled, and definitively not miserable.

Everyone, that was, except for Arnold O’Towne. He glared moodily at anyone who deigned to look in his direction. He was one of the younger residents, only in his mid-seventies. He looked good for his age too. Grey haired but healthy. He had fewer wrinkles than men half his age, and his surly expression looked more petulant and childish than wizened and grumpy.

Wendy wasn’t sure whether or not to start with Arnold to make sure she got the information she needed, or to ask around to mask her interest in his story. She made her decision quickly, bee-lining toward Arnold with what she hoped was calm and poise. Or at the very least, the veneer of professionalism.

“Hello, my name is Wendy Earp. I’m a reporter for the Brookings Daily News, and I was hoping to interview some of the residents here. I just have a few questions-“

“No,” said Arnold narrowing his eyes at her. “I’m not answering anymore questions. Answering questions is what got me here in the first place. I’m not supposed to be here you know. I’m supposed to be getting to second base with Alyssa Benson.”

Wendy repressed the urge to judge him. He’d been through an ordeal or whatever. Going missing for sixty years had to do funny things to a person. So instead of launching into a speech about the objectification of women, Wendy smiled politely and took out her notebook.

“Who’s Alyssa Benson?” she asked him. Arnold snorted in a decidedly immature way.

“The most beautiful girl I ever laid eyes on,” he said. “I waited up all night for her.”

“When was this?” Wendy asked, interest piqued. There was a far away look in Arnold’s eyes. She knew his wasn’t the only disappearance over the years, but he was one of the few to come back sane enough to tell the tale. Everyone knew it wasn’t quite safe to go in the woods. It was part of the local mythology.

“Depends who you’re asking,” said Arnold. “They say I’m an old man, but it wasn’t so long ago. A few months ago, maybe. Or that’s what I thought until I looked in a mirror.”

Arnold looked right at her, and his abject confusion was chilling.

“I was seventeen. I’d only ever kissed a girl before, and I waited up so long for her. I couldn’t believe she’d agreed to go out with me. And then the music started.”

“What kind of music?” Wendy asked him quietly.

“I don’t remember. I just remember I felt happy. I wanted to dance forever,” said Arnold. “And when I woke up, everything was different.”

Wendy made some careful notes, frowning at his description. It didn’t sound like anything she’d heard of from Claire. She had vampires, werewolves, ghosts, and even demons down pat, at least theoretically. She knew a little about a lot of other creatures, but nothing that Arnold had given her so far was ringing any bells.

“Thanks for your time,” she said.

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“I do actually,” Wendy said. “I mean, I think I do.”

“Oh,” said Arnold. “Huh. No one’s believed me before. It’s started to feel like… like I’m talking to a wall. Or a series of walls that just blandly agree with me and then go on with their days. I was starting to think I was crazy. But you really believe me.”

There was such relief on Arnold’s face that suddenly it wasn’t hard to picture him as younger than even Wendy was. A seventeen year old boy who’d woken up in an old man’s body.

“I overheard the nurses talking one day, and the official story is that I was probably a draft dodger, and that’s why I went missing for so long. Now they think I have Alzheimer’s and that’s why I came home. Because I couldn’t remember anything else,” said Arnold. “Pretty sure Gary spits in my food because of that story. He was a prisoner of war in Vietnam. He says he’s sick because of it. Something wrong with his head I never heard of, but he says it’s like he’s always back there. We can’t make loud noises because of it.”

“PTSD?” Wendy asked.

“Yes, that’s what the nurse called it,” said Arnold. “You should talk to him, too. He’s a good guy.”

“You just said he spits in your food.”

“Yeah, but he’s not so bad,” said Arnold. “That could have been me is what I think to myself, sometimes. We both got our lives stolen from us, but at least I can’t remember what happened.”

Wendy did end up interviewing the other residents, if only for appearances. Gary was charming. He showed her pictures of his grandkids, and told Wendy little details about his life.

He also mentioned that the day Arnold came back, there was a loud ringing through town. It was one of the many reasons Gary didn’t trust him.

“There’s something wrong with that one,” he told her. “I don’t know what, but there is.”

Wendy left with more questions than answers, but she was hoping they were questions that would lead her to some answers. It was time to play her least favorite game: throw darts at google and see what sticks.

**********

Patience had been drifting through her grandmother’s memories aimlessly, more or less at random. She’d seen Missouri’s death, in all it’s gory detail, and despite Missouri’s own warning to stay away from that particular moment. She’d seen hunts upon hunts, and watched her father grow up, and seen the days Missouri spent staring at her son’s phone number. Sometimes the memories only flashed before her eyes, and sometimes they lingered. There was no sense of time passing, just that some things seemed to have more weight.

Just now, Patience is watching a much younger version of Dean Winchester sizing up the table in front of him and throwing a clandestine look at Missouri.

“Don’t you dare put your feet on that table, boy.”

“I wasn’t gonna-“

“You were thinking about it.”

The boy next to Dean smirked, and Patience was startled to realize that that must be Sam. They both looked so different. Lighter. Not happy exactly, but hopeful. The contrast was unsettlingly startling.

Patience hadn’t realized how dead they had looked when she’d met them until now.

“Poor boys,” Missouri said from behind Patience. “They have no idea what’s coming to them.”

“But you do.”

“Some things you can’t change,” said Missouri. “And some things even I don’t know. I don’t see that far ahead. I knew bad was headed their way, but the stories they tell about them. No one could have predicted that.”

“Hunting tore them to pieces,” said Patience, horrified.

“It does that sometimes, Patience,” said Missouri softly. “It’s not a life you choose lightly. And you do need to choose it. No one is going to blame you if you go home.”

Missouri reached out and brushed Patience’s hair back. Her hand lingered on Patience’s face as she looked her fill.

“James is so proud of you, and so am I,” she said. Patience looked away. “Patience?”

“Can you show me more?” Patience asked.

Missouri only nodded.

**********

Claire stuffed a pop tart in her mouth as she watched Sam sip at a cup of black coffee Jody had made for him before she’d gone off to work. Alex had rushed off a few minutes later to catch a shift at the hospital, and Eileen was still sleeping. She did that a lot. Alex said it was the blood loss.

“So how’s Cas taking the whole thing?” Claire asked. Sam only seemed to remember she was there after she spoke. It took another few moments for him to realize what she had said.

“How do you think?” he asked at last. “Not well.”

“I mean, not that any of you cared when it was Jimmy Novak’s life on the line,” said Claire. Sam shifted uncomfortably, his restrained fury fading slightly. “But I should probably just forget about the fact my parents are dead or whatever. Who gives a fuck about my trauma.”

“You and Cas worked through that.”

“I don’t blame him,” said Claire. It was almost reflex, something she was still trying to convince herself of as a way of explaining how she could genuinely like Cas despite everything. Like that whole mess wasn’t confusing as hell. “For that at least. Not anymore. The world was ending, and I know how easy it is to say yes to someone who promises to fix everything. I get that my dad made his choice, but I am still fucking sad about it. Deal with it. I have to.”

“But you do blame Cas for something,” said Sam. Claire looked away. “Don’t pretend you didn’t want me to ask.”

“I need to get to the Bad Place,” said Claire. “The thing that killed Kaia is still out there, and if I can just cross over, I can-“

“And Cas said no,” Sam translated. “No, he wasn’t going to help you do that.”

“He helped you get Mary and Jack back,” said Claire. “Why are the rules different for me?”

“Because Kaia’s dead,” said Sam firmly. “And you just want revenge. You want to kill the thing that hurt her because you think it will fill up all the pieces of you it carved out. But guess what: it doesn’t. Maybe you’ll get a few more people killed along the way trying to avenge Kaia. Maybe you’ll get yourself killed. I’m sure that’s what she would have wanted.”

“You know the hunting community at large doesn’t always have the nicest things to say about you fuckers,” Claire snapped. “You have no fucking right to lecture me like you wouldn’t do the same thing-“

“I did do the same thing, Claire,” Sam said. God he sounded tired. “I met the love of my life and then I lost her, and then I lost my head. I decided I was going to kill the thing that killed her, and goddamn anyone who stood in my way. And it all spiraled from there. Sometimes there aren’t exceptions. Not everyone comes back. You have to deal with her death eventually.”

Claire looked away stubbornly.

“Kaia was just… It’s not like we knew each other, but it felt like we did. Like we could take care of each other. And besides maybe I don’t have to deal with it,” said Claire. “Cas always comes back.”

“Yeah, well. Cas is Cas,” said Sam. “Not exactly your average case. Pretty sure he’s still kicking out of sheer stubbornness.”

“I always kinda figured your bozo brother wouldn’t let him die for long. Too attached to his own personal hype man. Bet you don’t talk about how Dean Winchester is a pillar of humanity,” said Claire. Sam rolled his eyes at her, snorting. Then his expression froze, and Claire remembered at the same moment he did. Sam stared down at his coffee cup, his hands fidgeting. Claire cleared her throat and Sam looked up at her. “I am sorry, though. About Dean. I hope he’s okay. Or going to be okay, or…”

Claire felt herself trail off. She was bad at this. Actions were easy, taking action was easy, but living with the consequences of someone else’s actions? That was shit.

“He always is, right?” Sam said. “He always comes out alright.”

Once upon a time, Claire used to think her dad was superman. The idea that the sun could come up in the morning or go down at night without his say-so was unthinkable. She’d been cured of that idea very quickly when a higher power decided to take him for spin.

Claire didn’t say anything more. Sam went back to looking down at his coffee.

**********

Kaia decided she liked sand. The way it felt slipping between her fingers, and pushing up between her toes. The warmth of it in the midday sun. If she looked carefully, she saw not every piece of sand was the yellowish white color it appeared from further away. Instead there were all sorts of colors in each grain.

She breathes in the salty air and turns to see Father Hellen napping on a beach towel a few feet away from her. He’d insisted on buying a set of molds to build a sand castle, the rather sad results of which towered on the other side of him. He’d yet to teach her how to swim, but Kaia knew he was still planning on it. He’d looked so worried when she’d admitted it was a skill she lacked.

In her world, water was dangerous. You needed it to survive, but no one was stupid enough to submerge themselves entirely in an environment they were ill-equipped to fight in. Swimming was a pointless risk that, if it had occurred to anyone, had been swiftly dismissed. Children were taught to be careful, and how to hide, and the idea of spending an afternoon learning how to do something other than fight for your very survival was a luxury.

But Kaia wasn’t in the Bad Place anymore.

Kaia reached for the yellow sunglasses Father Hellen had bought for her and placed them over her eyes. She sank back onto her towel and closed her eyes.

Father Hellen’s dreams were easy to access. Claire put up a token resistance each time, just not enough to keep Kaia out. She didn’t want Kaia to stay out, not really. But every time Kaia began pressing against the borders of her mind, Claire would have a sudden memory of someone else pressing, and light filling her, and bone deep terror.

The angel who had taken over Claire, Kaia had long since decided, was on her list of people to destroy. For what he had done to Claire, it only seemed right. Claire herself tended to make an appearance on this list, depending on Kaia’s mood and how much say her other self had in it. And then there was the golden boy, who had filled her with false hope, and promised her so many beautiful worlds.

Maybe she would destroy everyone who dared cross her. She felt vengeful that way sometimes. Life in her world had been life, but now that she knew there was all of this, pain had begun to fracture her sense of normalcy. The people she had sacrificed to the giants and the cloaked lizards sometimes flashed before her eyes, and made her feel sick to her stomach. She didn’t belong here, but she didn’t want to leave. So maybe she would carve apart the bland normalcy of this world to make room for her.

Father Hellen she would leave alone. Just… because. Kaia supposed he’d been kind to her.

His dreams were loose and ill formed at first, shapeless things that came with the beginnings of sleep. It only started to sharpen after long minutes had gone by. Kaia made herself invisible, content just to watch. She wondered why she’d never thought to do this before.

At first it was just dinner at a table. The point of focus was narrow, and Kaia didn’t have much frame of reference except for knowing that there was Father Hellen, and there was a table. Slowly the perspective widened. At first Kaia was only aware of voices, and laughter. Slowly came faces. The first she recognized was her own, and she felt her chest constrict in a moment of intense happiness that she hadn’t expected. Next there was Jody, and then Alex and Claire, and then Patience, and finally the girl Claire sometimes stared at too long. Kaia didn’t know her name, but she looked a little like Donna Hanscum. Perhaps the girl was her daughter.

The dinner passed that way. They just talked. It felt warm, like lying beside a fire.

At some point, the dream version of Kaia and Father Hellen got up to leave. The dream Kaia stole his keys, running off before he could say a word about it, a mischievous grin on her face that Kaia was sure she never had. Father Hellen looked exasperated, but only gently so. Jody muttered something about kids, leaned up to kiss Father Hellen on the cheek, and told him to make sure Kaia didn’t crash the car on the way home.

“Is this what you always dream about?” Kaia asked, no longer invisible.

In an instant, the background of the dream went blank. Father Hellen stared at her, and the next thing Kaia knew she was floating through a blank void. It took effort to return to her body, as it always did when the people whose dreams she walked through woke before she could leave. It always left her feeling disoriented and lost.

She woke just in time to see Father Hellen getting to his feet. He was red in the face with anger, but he didn’t shout at her. He very calmly said he would be back, and then began walking in the exact opposite direction of Kaia. The sand castle collapsed behind him.

**********

“Gotcha,” said Donna for about the fifth time in the last minute. She had on her reading glasses, which Wendy was absolutely not allowed to tell Jody about. Like Jody would care, but Donna could be sensitive about that kind of stuff sometimes.

“Has the internet provided?” Wendy asked, trying for RenFair levels of fancy talk. Donna grinned at her, and poked her in the side.

“You’re as mouthy as a two headed woodchuck,” she said. “I can’t say I’ve run into this kind of thing before. We’ll have to be careful.”

“And what kind of thing is it?” Wendy asked.

“Heck if I know,” said Donna, scratching her head. “I’ll call a few of my buddies up, see if they’ve heard anything. There’s a guy, Garth, he’s a total sweetie. You can call him up for anything except werewolf hunting.”

“Oh. Why not werewolves?” asked Wendy.

“Killing the in-laws is a bad look,” said Donna. “Can’t say I’ve never been tempted on that front, but more power to him. Besides, the less people know about a silver bullet to the heart, less likely he’ll end up on the shooting range himself.”

“He’s a werewolf?” Wendy asked, staring at Donna. “Does he eat people?”

“No,” said Donna firmly. “No he doesn’t. Wouldn’t call him up if he did.”

Wendy tried to take take that to heart, but it was hard not to think about all those monsters that must have been bidding on her body. Who looked at a human tied up and shaking with fear, and thought of her as a delivery pizza.

“Hey, you okay?” Donna asked her. Wendy wondered how long she hadn’t said anything. Enough to get a worried look going on Donna’s face. “We can pass this off to someone else if you want. It can be a bit much at first.”

“I’m good,” said Wendy. She stood up and tried to shake off the memories that had flooded through her. “Can I call Claire? See if she knows anything?”

“Yeah, okay,” Donna said hesitantly. “I’m here for you. You know that right?”

“Yeah, of course,” said Wendy. “You were the only one who ever stood up for me, at home. I’ll talk about it when I can talk about it, but I’m not cutting you out, okay?”

“Alright, good. Go off and call your girlfriend then,” said Donna. She was relieved, and Wendy was glad to see it.

“Not my girlfriend,” said Wendy. “And I will go call her, thank you very much.”

“Remember to leave space for Jesus,” snarked Donna. Wendy fell into the familiar and gentle teasing easily. It was almost like old times.

“It’s a freaking phone conversation, Aunt Donna.”

“Should be easy for your date to keep her hands to herself then, little missy,” Donna shot back with a wink. Wendy smiled and plopped herself down on her bed, fingers already scrolling through her contacts to make the call.

**********

Sam and Eileen had spent the day talking to each other in sign, and Claire was starting to feel excluded. Sam wasn’t necessarily good at signing either. He was better than Alex was, but even Claire could tell he stumbled over signing. Eileen didn’t seem to mind. Sam actually smiled while talking to her too, which was good. Claire got the sense from what they actually said out loud that Eileen would be leaving with Sam when he was ready to go home.

They seemed both comfortable with each other, and yet strangely distant. They looked at each other with friendly, but guarded eyes, and Claire got the sense that the both of them were waiting for the other foot to drop. Sam didn’t seem to want Eileen out of his sightline, and he was more than willing to let Eileen doze off with her head on his shoulder.

It would all be a lot more bearable if Sam had let Claire take control of the remote. Being hyper aware that you liked to watch trash TV made it almost impossible to ask if you could watch the trashy shows you liked. The only way to do it was to lose the self-consciousness or to quickly thumb through a dozen channels before declaring there’s nothing to watch anyway, and you might as well put on a soap.

Instead they were watching the news, and Claire was squirming, wondering if she should find something else to be doing. Jody and Alex both texted saying they would be home later than expected, and Claire ordered take out. The news kept playing.

“Can’t we watch something else?” she asked at last. Eileen was fast asleep sprawled across the couch and Sam had moved to sit in the chair Claire had been using. He was staring at the TV blankly, and Claire had to repeat her question before he looked at her.

“Uh, sorry,” he said. “I’m keeping an eye out. For Michael.”

“I thought you came here to get away from that for a bit,” said Claire.

“No, I came here to get away from Cas,” said Sam. Claire stared at him. “Like I said, he’s not taking it well and I’m sick of having to… to try to make him feel better. He keeps making mistakes, and jumping at shadows, and I don’t know how to deal with it. Every time I try to help it just makes him feel worse, and I need to be focusing on getting Dean back.”

“Fuck off,” said Claire. She was surprised with the heat behind the words.

“I’m not insulting the guy, it’s just… I’m screwed up over this too,” said Sam. “And I can’t take care of him and myself at the same time.”

“So you just get Jody to take care of you for a few days instead,” said Claire. “Real heroic.”

Sam didn’t rise to the bait. If anything, he seemed to reanalyze the situation and come to a conclusion that was in Claire’s favor. He sighed.

“There’s nothing wrong with asking for help when you need it,” he said firmly. “Stop trying to pick a fight with me.”

“You know, everyone else has to deal with shit too right? It’s not just you. You roll into town like Jody’s life just stops when you’re gone,” said Claire. “It doesn’t. My life doesn’t.”

“Cas isn’t here. Stop yelling at me when we both know who you’re actually angry at. And for the record? You stopped calling him first,” said Sam. Claire’s mouth snapped shut. “It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t help you find us or stop Kaia from dying. Trust me he would have been there if he could have. And even if it was his fault, I’m not him.”

“I stopped calling first,” said Claire out loud. It sounded bitter. “You’re right. I wanted Cas to be something he couldn’t be. I get that now. I mean, not that it matters. I have Jody. Someone who was actually there for me when I needed her. And I was there when you and Dean needed me, and I lost something so important because of that. And after it was over, you both just left. You held a gun to Kaia’s head to make her open that door. She told me that. And what I did was so much worse. I promised her I’d keep her safe. I should be dead, not her. But I can’t help thinking that if it was me, you’d still have just walked away like nothing happened. How wrong does a person have to get to stop seeing the bodies piling up behind them?”

“Claire-“

“Have you ever even thought of her since-“

“Claire, your phone is ringing,” said Sam quietly. “It could be important.”

Claire looked down and felt a tear roll off her face. She roughly wiped at her eyes. She hadn’t known she’d been crying. She pulled her phone out of her pocket.

“Yeah, hey, Wendy,” she said, trying to hide a sniffle. “What’s up?”

Claire frowned as she listened to Wendy explain the situation.

“Sounds like a real life Rip Van Winkle,” said Claire. Wendy snorted. “Oh shut up, I went to school, sometimes. As far as I know though, fairies don’t exist so if we’re talking about what happened to this guy-“

“They do,” Sam interrupted, frowning at Claire. “Who’s calling again?”

“Wendy and Donna,” said Claire. Sam frowned.

“Wendy Hanscum? Like monster chow Wendy?”

“I will punch you in the face, Sam,” said Claire. “Check your gallows humor, we’re not all so fucked up we can joke about it yet.”

“Can I talk to them?” asked Sam. Claire passed over the phone and Sam relayed instructions. Fairies have to count salt. They don’t like iron. They’re a little like demons, they like making deals. Only first borns can see them (which meant both Wendy and Donna were okay), and only first borns could travel to fairy realms. Once Sam finished, he hung up.

“Hey, I wanted to say bye to Wendy,” Claire muttered. Sam rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure she was fine.”

“Look, if you don’t want me third wheeling for you and your hunter girlfriend, that’s fine, just ask me to leave,” said Claire. “But you didn’t have to hang up on my phone to make a point.”

“I wasn’t making a point,” said Sam. He frowned at Claire. “And Eileen is just a friend. And… wait, does that mean you’re gay? Since when?”

“Literally always,” said Claire. “And Wendy’s just a friend too. But she likes me, and that feels good, and did you have to hang up on her? She’s on a hunt, and I wanted to talk to her.”

Sam wasn’t listening anymore. His brow was furrowed and he looked as though he had just figured out something very important.

“So wait, that means that with Kaia…” Sam said in realization, his eyes growing wide. “Oh, Claire. I’m so sorry.”

“Let’s just not do this,” said Claire. “I already got the message. Don’t let losing someone you loved drive you to mindless revenge. I get the picture. And I only knew her for a day right? I shouldn’t feel like this.”

“Sometimes a day is all it takes,” said Sam. Claire raised an eyebrow. “My romantic history is fucking sad, okay? I’m not even talking about the same girl as last time.”

“Is that why Eileen is just a friend?” Claire asked him.

“Yeah, something like that,” said Sam. “And even she was just another body left in our wake, right? Because we left her for dead on a morgue table. I didn’t… check. I didn’t go back to burn her.”

Fuck.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Claire admitted. “Sometimes I just get… angry. At everyone.”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t mean it Claire,” said Sam. She noticed the bags under his eyes again. “I’ll be gone tomorrow. Think you can deal with me until then?”

Claire swallowed. God, she felt guilty. And wasn’t this what she had wanted all along. To see freaking regret in a Winchester’s eyes? For one of them to admit that they had been wrong, and she was suffering because she saved them?

“Yeah,” said Claire. “I think so.”

Eileen began to stir and look around for something. When she caught sight of Sam, she visibly relaxed. Like catching sight of his face was a symbol of home and safety, and Claire wondered if anyone would ever look at her that way someday. If anyone would trust her like that. She wondered if she’d ever earn trust like that.

“Eileen’s cool,” she said to Sam without thinking about it. “Maybe it could go right with her. And if one of you fuckers gives up on something, what do the rest of us have to hope for? I mean you stopped the end of the world a few times, and you don’t even get the girl? Talk about depressing.”

Sam frowned at her. He would take it to heart or he wouldn’t, but Claire had said her piece. Maybe it wasn’t fair to take out all her tangled emotions out on someone who’d just lost one of the most important people in their lives. But hey, Claire Novak wasn’t a fucking saint.

“I’m going out,” she said, figuring she would hit up the hospital and bother Alex for a while until her shift ended. “Have fun watching the news while I’m gone. Or whatever else you get up to.”

Claire signed goodbye to Eileen, and then slammed the door on the way out. She almost missed Sam casually flipping her off so Eileen couldn’t see. It just made her smile.

Well, she had promised Alex she would get her a beer while Patience and Wendy were out of the house. And what Jody didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.

**********

Missouri sat in her living room. Patience stood behind her frowning at the man across from her. He was pale and sweating, his eyes covered over dull grey.

“Is he a demon?” she asked. Missouri shook her head.

“Something worse. Something in-between.”

“You have to help me,” the thing said, staring Missouri down. “Please you have to-“

“You can’t go to heaven, John Winchester,” said Missouri sadly. “And I won’t send you to hell.”

“I can’t live like this.”

“That man you’re possessing. He got a name?” asked Missouri. “A family?”

John looked down at his hands.

“Yes.”

“Do you burn through them?” Missouri asked next. “The people you take, do you burn through them?”

“No. Not yet,” said John. “I keep jumping, but it hurts not to be in a body. On Earth. I can feel all the ways they cut me. But when I wear someone, it all goes away. I can’t stop.”

John looked down, and when he looked up again, his eyes were threatening. Without thinking Patience moved in front of Missouri.

“You can’t protect me,” Missouri said softly. “It’s just a memory.”

The memory skipped over. Missouri sent a confused man on his way and then went into her backyard and started digging a hole. When night fell, she’d dug deep enough and carefully retrieved a box, covered in inscriptions and radiating power. Patience could feel it through Missouri’s memories.

“You locked him inside.”

“And god forbid any fool ever lets him out,” said Missouri. “That man is sleeping. It was the only happy ending he was going to get.”

“You don’t think he deserves it?” Patience asked, frowning at the dark tinge to Missouri’s thoughts. The best end he could ask for. It was kind, what Missouri did.

“I think I’m not in charge of what anyone deserves. And I won’t judge a man’s life when I did not live a perfect life of my own,” said Missouri. “I brought that man into hunting and I saw him out. But I’m more careful about these things now, girl. If you want to be a psychic, or a hunter, or anything else, please think about it first.”

Missouri began to shovel handfuls of dirt over the box.

“That won’t happen to my kin,” said Missouri, staring down as dirt filled the hole. “I’ll see to it, Patience.”

**********

Sister Maggie shook Patience again.

“Wake up,” she said urgently. “Patience, you’ve been gone too long. You should have told me you had such a powerful artifact. You need to wake up. The longer you’re gone, the harder it is to come back to your body. Especially the first time.”

Maggie began reciting chants she knew, and cheered internally when Patience’s eyelids started to flutter.

“Thank God,” she said quietly. “I thought you were lost.”

“How long was I-?”

“Almost thirty hours,” said Maggie. “I was beginning to get very worried. Did you find what you were looking for?”

Patience looked back at her and then down at her broach.

“Yeah. I think I did,” said Patience. “I think I need to eat something.”

“I’ll order take out,” said Maggie, sounding relieved more than anything.

“That doesn’t sound very holy.”

“If it sounds heavenly, it probably is,” countered Maggie. “And Chinese food sounds pretty heavenly to me.”

Patience half smiled.

“Okay. I’m down for Chinese.”

Maggie left to order the food, and Patience went back to looking down at her broach. She pinned it to her shirt and closed her eyes.

“Thank you.”

It felt as though arms encircled her in a warm hug. Patience’s smile widened.

She felt a little bit at peace.

**********

“We’re going home,” said Father Hellen.

He’d walked for hours, trying to clear his mind. It hadn’t helped. Despite knowing Kaia was a danger to him, Father Hellen had founded he trusted her absolutely. It was a stupid mistake, and one he’d made more than once with other people he’d taken into his care. And Kaia had betrayed his trust so fundamentally.

Father Hellen valued his mind. The integrity of it was essential to maintaining his resistance against the change. His mental fortitude was what made him a man and not a monster. That Kaia could so easily trespass into it was more than just a blow. It shook his faith in himself.

“I haven’t learned how to swim.”

“We’ll do that some other time.”

“I’m sorry,” said Kaia loudly. She sounded frustrated. “I didn’t know you wouldn’t want me to-“

“Please don’t insult my intelligence, Kaia,” said Father Hellen. “You were curious, and you did as you pleased without considering my feelings. No one wants someone else in their head. You have enough common sense to know that.”

“Fine,” said Kaia, glaring at he feet. “I knew you wouldn't want me there. But then I saw what you dreamed about and I thought-“

“I don’t care what you thought. You had no right to spy on my dreams,” said Father Hellen. “I said we’re going home. Gather your things.”

Kaia didn’t speak another word for hours. She silently fumed while Father Hellen drove, equally as angry. Kaia didn’t have her staff with her, so she probably wouldn’t kill him out of spite, but even if she had tried to, Father Hellen couldn’t bring himself to care.

He only began to really cool off when they pulled off the road for gas. Kaia had fallen asleep beside him, her head resting against the window. She looked unhappy. Father Hellen sighed and looked away. The gas pump hadn’t finished yet.

Kaia woke up with a start, shaking her head in disgust. She glared angrily through the window at the napping attendant inside.

“He deserves to die,” she said, startling Father Hellen. “The things he dreams about-“

“So stop,” said Father Hellen. “Stop invading people’s minds. You have to know that what you’re doing is wrong-“

“I can’t,” said Kaia. Father Hellen frowned at her. “I don’t dream. I never have. Where I’m from people don’t even sleep. I was the only, and when I slept I could go into the cloaked lizard’s minds. Figure out their movements and make sure we stayed ahead of them. That’s why I was chosen as the huntress. The other Kaia, she only saw my world when she slept. If I don’t find someone’s dreams while I sleep, I go back there. Her body is nothing but bones now. I can’t feel anything or see anything. I just feel cold.”

“People don’t sleep?” Father Hellen asked slowly, a deep frown on his face.

“We don’t need to,” said Kaia. “In fact it’s a good way to get yourself killed.”

She reflected for a moment, smiling slightly.

“The other Kaia. She would have traded anything to just stop sleeping,” said Kaia. “I’m the best thing that ever happened to her.”

The gas pump shudders, having filled the tank. Father Hellen gets out to replace the nozzle and give himself a moment to think.

“What does he dream about?” Father Hellen asked when he got back in the car. Kaia frowned at him. “The store clerk who’s napping. What is dreaming about?”

“Skinning his girlfriend’s dog,” said Kaia. “And then cooking and eating it.”

“Right. I’m sorry I asked,” said Father Hellen. He started up his car. They were a few miles down the highway before Kaia spoke again.

“Why didn’t you talk to him?”

“Dreams aren’t reality. I can’t punish a man for his dreams.”

“I thought people dreamed about things they wanted.”

“Sometimes,” said Father Hellen. “And sometimes you just dream. I had a dream a spider was teaching me Latin verb conjugations once. Every time I got a work wrong, I grew another arm. I had fifty arms before i woke up. I did excellently on the quiz in class that day, however.”

Kaia just frowned.

“You can’t have children,” said Kaia after a moment. Father Hellen’s hands tightened on the wheel. “But you want children.”

“Becoming a rugaru is genetic. As far as I know, my long term resistance to turning is unique,” said Father Hellen. “I won’t curse a little boy with the hungers I have. No one deserves that.”

“You want a family.”

“The church is my family,” said Father Hellen. “Believe it or not, Kaia, I have already done what I can to make my situation easier for myself. I don’t require your assistance.”

“Do you think of me as a daughter?” Kaia asked next.

“No.”

“Pull over.”

Father Hellen wasn’t sure why he listened, but he did. Kaia got out of the car and walked around before opening the driver’s seat door.

“Since you didn’t teach me how to swim, you’re going to teach me how to drive,” Kaia said. Sheer astonishment made Father Hellen hold his tongue. “Now.”

Father Hellen moved and Kaia got behind the driver’s seat. She looked apprehensive. Scared almost.

“So you just…?”

Father Hellen took pity on Kaia’s confusion and explained the gear shift and the gas and brake pedals. Before he was ready, Kaia was speeding down the highway. It was only once Father Hellen pointed out a speed limit existed and that they were well above it that Kaia slowed down. She only drove for twenty minutes before she got bored and switched back with him, and yet it was twenty of the most terrifying minutes of Father Hellen’s life.

“I don’t mind,” Kaia had said, having put the window down and letting the wind whip through her hair. Her yellow sunglasses were in place, so Father Hellen couldn’t see where she was looking. “If you treat me like a daughter. If that’s what you need.”

“You should mind,” said Father Hellen. “Our arrangement is temporary. Once I’ve found a place for you, you’ll be moving on. It’s better not to get attached.”

“You get attached anyway.”

“Every time,” Father Hellen confirmed. He’d found out early on that although it was good to stress that he was there if the people he took care of needed him, it was best not to become a crutch to lean on. And yet he still couldn’t help admitting: “But especially this time.”

“I wish things could be like they were in the dream,” said Kaia. “It seemed nice.”

Father Hellen found it impossible to look at her. He stared into the horizon at the encroaching night instead, watching the long shadow of the car cast by the setting sun.

“It was very nice,” he said softly. “But it was just a dream, Kaia. Some things don’t hold their shape in the light of day.”

**********

It was Jody’s day off and it was before nine a.m. The sun shining in through her windows was making it very difficult to celebrate that fact. Her optimistic goal of a good eight hours of sleep was looking grim now.

Freddie had been on her case about the fact she wasn’t enforcing parking ticket quotas and it meant the station’s budget was taking a hit. It wasn’t that bad a hit, but Jody knew they tended to be underfunded already. There just wasn’t all that much normal crime in Sioux Falls to justify asking for more. Sure the dead were raised from their graves that one time, but those guys drove the speed limit and paid their taxes. Not being dead wasn’t a criminal offense.

Jody had moved around enough of their budget that the lack of extra parking tickets wasn’t so noticeable a strain on their resources. Even Freddie had admitted she’d done a good job at that. Unfortunately it had taken half the night, and Jody just needed some well earned sleep.

So when someone knocked on the door it was with great effort that Jody did not murder them.

“Hey, Jodes,” said Sam. She glared at him. “Sorry to bother you, but Eileen and I are going to head out, and I thought you should know that Patience is back.”

Jody gave him a thumbs up and Sam just laughed.

“You try working full time and dealing with four young adult’s schedules,” said Jody. “And then you can judge me.”

“Really, really don’t want to,” said Sam, with a smile. “Thanks for letting me stay for a while, Jody. I hope I didn’t make things too hard on you or-“

“No, you are always welcome here,” said Jody, sitting up now so she could make sure Sam knew she meant it. “Never hesitate to call me for anything okay? If I can’t do it, I’ll tell you, but I don’t want you worrying I’m too busy to help out.”

“Thanks,” said Sam, looking away. “And I really mean that. You’ve got a lot going on here, and I came in on a slow weekend. I think you’re doing a good job with them, for what it’s worth.”

“They mostly take care of themselves, but I’m trying,” said Jody. “Alright, Sam. Get out of here. Give Michael hell. Oh, and tell Eileen it was good to meet her, and if she’s in the area again to stop by.”

“Will do Jody.”

Jody managed to eke out an hour or two more of sleep before forcing herself to get out of bed. She zombie walked through getting herself a bowl of cereal and settled into the armchair in front of the TV where Patience and Claire were watching a game show. They had notepads in front of them, and Jody quickly figured out they were competing against each other. Just like them to turn relaxing in front of the TV into a battle of wits.

“Who’s winning?” Jody asked.

“Claire,” said Patience, brow furrowed in annoyance. “You didn’t even go to high school, how do you know all this stuff?”

“It’s called bar trivia nights,” said Claire. “It’s a solid way of earning extra cash on the road. I got good.”

Claire smirked as she checked off another answer. Patience sighed and put her pad down.

“Loser makes pancakes!” Claire yelled after her as she climbed off the couch.

“Yeah, I remember,” said Patience. She looked down at Claire and seemed to think for a moment. “At least I’m not short.”

Claire sputtered for something to say.

“I’m not… I am average height!” she yelled after Patience. Jody hid her smile at Claire trying to come up with something insulting to say. “I am not short.”

“Of course you’re not, Claire,” said Jody. Claire took that as the appeasement Jody had meant it as and went back to sullenly watching TV. “Have you heard from Donna and Wendy again? Wendy’s supposed to be coming back tonight, right?”

“She hasn’t called,” said Claire, sulking even more obviously. “They’re hunting fairies, so I guess they’re probably just busy.”

“Fairies?’

“That’s what Sam said.”

Jody frowned and took out her phone to call up Donna. She really wasn’t sure Donna should be facing a threat she didn’t know much about with a brand new hunter and no back up. Chances are that if Jody offered her help, Donna would be more than happy to let her in on the hunt.

So much for a day off.

The phone rang and rang, and Donna didn’t pick up. Jody left a message and then tried calling again. Still no answer.

Maybe they were in the middle of something.

Or maybe something had gone wrong.

**********

Wendy opened her eyes. The world around her seemed oversaturated in colors, to the point she was beginning to develop a headache. She groaned and looked to her side. Donna was only just stirring too.

They were in the middle of a grassy field, but there were oddly shaped buildings recognizable in the distance. Something must have gone wrong with the spell. Very, very wrong.

“I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” said Donna, amiably concerned. “What I wouldn’t give for a pair of sunglasses right now.”

Wendy shielded her eyes and looked into the distance to see people approaching. A lot of people. On closer inspection, a veritable army of people wearing what looked to be plate armor. A lump formed in the back of Wendy’s throat as it registered the deepness of the shit they had just wandered into.

“You think they’re friendly?” Donna asked, already moving between Wendy and the oncoming horde.

Wendy glanced at the swords and bows each fairy had on their person. One of the army caught sight of them and whistled loudly. The remainder of the group began repeating the whistle.

“Wouldn’t bet on it.”

Wendy grabbed her Aunt Donna’s hand and pulled her to her feet. They ran towards a tree line, where hopefully they would be hard to follow. Wendy checked behind her every few seconds to make sure Aunt Donna was still there. She nearly ran smack into a tree when she realized Donna had disappeared.

“Wendy?” Aunt Donna’s voice called. It echoed all around her, and Wendy had no idea which direction to go. She froze, trying to tell where it was coming from. “Wendy, where did you go?”

Wendy spun around, looking for any hint as to where Aunt Donna might be, but she was just gone.

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued...
> 
> Please let me know if you're enjoying this series, and thank you so much for reading!


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